Birthday Wishes
by Nico'sGirl
Summary: Renesmee reflects about her time with Jacob before her seventh birthday party. Shameless fluff. One-shot. R&R Please!Love, Nico'sGirl.


Disclaimer: Hello, all! This is simply a hastily written thought of mine that I wanted to share. I do not own Twilight. I wish I did though. I am capable of things you wouldn't even dream of if it means I could be Stephanie Meyer…….. Anyway, Please review, even if it is a ones-shot, I love to try and improve. Xoxo Nico'sGirl

Renesmee's POV

Today, I turned seven years old.

Well, physically, I am about twenty-one. Carlisle came up with this theory that for every year that passed, I aged three, and my mind had already completely matured by the time I was about three.

Now, I stand in my room getting ready for my birthday party, taking place in about fifteen minutes. Alice didn't give me many hints about it, just to get as dolled up as possible. No problem there, since I love dressing up and getting pretty.

I turn around in front of the full length mirror in my room. Its pretty dark, the only light coming from a standing lamp in the corner behind me and a little lavender scented candle perched on my bedside table. I lean close to the flame, inhaling. I love lavender, my room has a bunch of sprigs of it in little pots on almost every flat surface. Jake and I like to go out to the nearby lavender fields and collect it together.

Jake.

Just his name makes this warm feeling start in my stomach, then it spreads until it fills in down to my fingertips and toes. I can remember the times when Jake was just like an older brother to me. He was my protector. But now, he's so much more.

He used to be so careful around me. Once I turned 3, I knew about sex and love and all of the stuff like that, but it was too awkward to talk about stuff like that to Jake. I knew about the imprint, and what that meant for our future, but I wanted some more time to be a child with him, not pressured by those hormonal desires. If only I had known how fast it would go by.

When I turned 5, and I was physically about 15, I remember that was when things between us became more romantic. Our first kiss is one of my strongest memories. We were at La Push, on a cliff. We were sitting on a log of dried out driftwood someone (or somewolf, maybe) had dragged up here a while ago. As we watched the waves crash and breathed in the briny air, Jake was telling me a story about when my mom was human and jumped off that cliff for fun and almost died. I was nodding and such, but I wasn't really paying attention. I was to busy staring into his dark, mysterious eyes. I could see emotions buried deep down there. There was fear, there was nostalgia, pain, and something else? Could it be love?

I didn't realize that Jake had stopped talking, not until his eyes met mine. Suddenly, there was just a breath of space between us. _So close, so close. _My heart yearned to close that gap, but I just didn't know how. I just wanted to be close to Jacob, to let him know that his love was reciprocated. I wasn't in control when I kissed him, my body was. My body knew what to do to fill this insufferable need for him, even if my mind didn't.

I was just a brush of the lips at first. His touch was so shocking that I jerked back a little. But I relaxed, and went back to his warm, soft lips, drinking in his taste. He tasted and smelled like pine trees and… something else. The wild. He smelled like the wild. Both of our hands hung limply at our sides, unsure of what to do, our limits shaky and unset. Jake and I had never talked about this before. We had never set rules or anything. I think we were both hoping to have more time. But our passion didn't want to wait.

Slowly, I brought my hands up and locked the around his neck like I had seen in movies. His hands gently wrapped around my waist, unsure of how to please me. Jake pulled me closer a little, then used one hand to gently stroke my hair.

I can feel his touch tickling the skin near my temple now… Oh, crap, no, that's the curling iron starting to burn my scalp. I release the last curl and turn off the iron. I survey myself in the mirror. My bronze hair that reaches to my elbows is styled in big loose curls, not my usual tiny and out of control ringlets. Its still damp, since if I wanted the new curls I had to attack before my hair dried. Next, before makeup, I slip into my dress. It's a pale, dreamy blue, strapless, and it comes down a little past my knees. There are rhinestones all across the top of the dress, which thin out into little streams of sparkle further down the dress. The bottom is shaped a bit like flower petals.

(AN: For anyone who wants to see the dress, I'm trying to describe one of the dresses Taylor Swift wears in the music video for "Our Song")

As I begin to put on makeup, I let myself revisit other memories of Jake.

Throughout my fifth year, Jake and I didn't do much more than kiss and have the occasional case of wandering hands. We were in the stages of what I guess humans would call puppy love. No pun intended. Jake, it seemed now that I look back, must have felt a little torn. He wanted to please me, yes, but he also wanted what was best for me. As soon as things started to get a little bit heated, he would stop. If I was lucky, I could get his shirt off, and only then for a short while before he decided that we had gone too far. He wanted to protect me, because in his eyes I was still so young. I didn't feel young. Physically, I was a teenager, and mentally, I was already an adult, a middle-aged one at that. But Jake wanted to wait until I was older, until he thought I was ready.

But I had felt ready then! I couldn't understand why he would want to wait for our physical relationship to progress. Jake didn't like to talk about this kind of thing, he would put off the discussion until a later date, and when we did talk about it we ended up arguing awfully. I hated arguing with Jake, even little spats over tiny issues. These blowouts would leave me breathless. I would run out of the main house, to my cottage, where I would crawl into bed and cry. Sometimes my mom would silently sit down next to me and hold my hand while I cried. She knew better than to ask what was wrong. My mom knew that I would tell her in my own time.

When I turned six, I asked Jacob if he would grant me one birthday wish. I had wished and wished endlessly that he would listen to me for days now, and when he agreed I filled with hope. I asked him if he would take my virginity, that night. Jacob said yes, but not tonight. He promised me that only after I turned seven. I was crushed. I was physically eighteen. I wanted Jake more than anything else, more than blood.

However, to my joy our physical love did begin to progress as I grew older. Not only did we spend more time kissing and touching in various states of undress, but we were also past simple empty-headed romance. We were connected so much more deeply, our love now a serious thing.

As my seventh birthday approached I began to badger him more and more about undertaking the final act between us. Usually, he ignored me, but lately he had been letting on that something would happen soon. Maybe he would tell me more at the party.

Speaking of, I am almost ready to head out to the main house. My family is probably already waiting. I glance one last time in the mirror. I had given myself a smoky eye and deep purple lips, just like Allure magazine suggests. My face is pale with a peach shimmer, too. Hastily, I fasten the strappy white heels Alice had given me as an early present and scurry out the door to the main house. My shoes click like Dorothy's slippers on the stone path as I trot toward the glowing lights of the house. In the back of my mind, I note that they are a bit dimmer than usual, but I don't really think much of it. I open the door slowly, ready to face the hugs and frenzied cheering that usually happen at my birthday parties. But its quiet.

Cautious, I step into the house. I take a deep breath and then I'm calm. The scent of lavender is thick. When I enter the room, I see why. The only light is coming from candles, and all the candles are lavender. Sprigs are tucked in the windowsills, floating in pots of water, and little lavender seeds are sprinkled in a little trail from the door around the corner. I follow it. Then I see him.

Jacob.

He isn't wearing a shirt, which isn't new to me, but the way the candle light reflects off his body is. He is only wearing unbelted jeans. I fee silly in my dress. No one else is here, and its evident that Jacob set this all up by himself. He stands up and is by my side in a moment. Jake smells of lavender, and I realize that he has rubbed lavender water all over his skin. It makes my heart burn to see how well he knows me.

"Happy birthday," he whispers huskily before kissing my lips tenderly. "You look so beautiful tonight."

I grin uncontrollably. "Not half as much as you." I then notice the mattress on the floor that is covered in layers and layers of mismatched blankets. "Is that for…?" I trail off, knowing he'll understand.

"I'm going to grant you your wish." He says, before pulling me so we are both kneeling on the mattress.

I catch my breath as he removes both of our clothes. I have never been so exposed before him. But I am not embarrassed. I love him m ore than anything, and I finally feel his endless love for me as well. Gently, Jacob lies me down on the blankets.

And then, Jacob makes my wish come true until I see stars in the candlelight


End file.
